Wildwing vs Wildchild
by Hamato Kameko
Summary: AU, OC - Human teen Christina Palmetto is now legally ward of the Mighty Ducks. Very quickly, both sides find that living with aliens is not easy, and Wildwing finds himself taking on a second younger sibling who's rather a lot to handle...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **The Mighty Ducks and all related characters are © Walt Disney Entertainment and are used without permission for entertainment purposes only. 'Wildwing vs. Wildchild' is © 2012 to Hamato Kameko. The character, Christina Palmetto/Emerald L'Orange, is © 2001-2012 Hamato Kameko.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary: ****Human Christina Palmetto is now legally ward of the Mighty Ducks. Very quickly, both sides find that living with aliens is not easy, and Wildwing finds himself taking on a second younger sibling who's rather a lot to handle.**

**Note:** This is one of several short pieces I've had on my hard drive for several years now, and I've recently been looking them back over. I've had many requests over the years for more information about my character, Christina "Emerald" L'Orange, and these little stories cover some of her backstory not yet revealed. So I figured what the hell, I'll publish them and see what happens. Enjoy! :)

* * *

"_Why_ can't I _come_?"

Wildwing grit his teeth at the teenager's challenging tone, and focused on keeping his own tone even.

"Because I _said_ no."

"That ain't a reason, it's an excuse."

He stopped dead halfway between the two doors that flanked Drake One, so fast the human girl nearly walked right into him as he turned to face her. The rest of the team stopped to watch.

"I'm not going to argue with you about this, Christina."

"You _are_ arguin' with me about it."

A muscle in Wildwing's right arm twitched; Christina flinched, but didn't back down. He made a mental note of her reaction, but would have to worry about it later; he was in a hurry.

"I can fight an' you know it. I _want_ to fight."

Wildwing forced himself to relax his clenched hands, and spoke to the rest of the team without turning to look at them.

"Go prep for take-off. I'll be right there." They didn't move, and he repeated himself. "_Go_, I'll catch up." They went. The moment the door closed, Wildwing started talking again.

"I _know_ you can fight, Chris."

"Then _why_ won't you let me—"

"I don't want you to get _hurt_!"

"I'm _willin__'_ t'take the _risk_, Wildwing!"

"But _I__'__m_ not!"

"It's _my_ life!"

"But you're _my_ responsibility!"

"So's Nosedive! What the _hell_ is the difference?"

"He—I—_Damn_ it Christina, I _don__'__t_have to _explain_ myself to you!"

"Right, 'cause it's so much easier t'just tell the useless weak human t'sit down an' shut up!"

He just stared at her through the mask, knowing the imposing appearance it gave him and glad that it hid his eyes. The only responses his frustrated brain could come up with to her accusation including a great deal of crude language, and as much as he told her to watch her own language, that wouldn't help anything. She'd been pushing her luck ever since they'd taken her in, almost two weeks ago now, and he was certain she was just _waiting_ for him to push back.

She glared back at him for several long seconds before huffing angrily and stalking away from him, to glower instead at the controls for Drake One. Wildwing sighed, his anger dissipating a bit.

"I _don__'__t_ think you're useless _or_ weak, Chris."

She just snorted, not turning to look at him.

"I'm only trying to protect you."

"I don't _need_your protection!" she exploded. She punctuated her statement with an impulsive move that he was sure she instantly regretted—she slammed her right fist into the control panel in front of her, so hard _he_ winced. Glass displays cracked beneath the blow, and electricity sparked around her hand. His first instinct was to ask whether or not she'd completely lost her mind, but after a few seconds—during which the human girl gingerly extracted her fist from the panel, holding it in front of her chest and hiding it from his view—he spoke quietly.

"Feel better?"

"Just go, Wildwing."

"Chris—"

"Just _go__!_ Your _team__'__s_ waitin' for you."

He sighed and walked toward her, gently taking hold of her elbow. "Let me see your hand, Christina."

"I'm _fine__._" She yanked her arm out of his grip and stalked away, back toward the door they'd just come through. She sighed, and continued quietly, "Just go save the world, already." She disappeared through the door, and Wildwing sighed again. Tanya wouldn't be happy about the damage to Drake One, but at least he was fairly certain that if the damage to Christina's _hand_ had been serious, she would have let him see it. She was stubborn, but she wasn't stupid. His com beeped insistently, and he answered it without looking to see who it was.

"I'm on my way."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **The Mighty Ducks and all related characters are © Walt Disney Entertainment and are used without permission for entertainment purposes only. 'Wildwing vs. Wildchild' is © 2012 to Hamato Kameko. The character, Christina Palmetto/Emerald L'Orange, is © 2001-2012 Hamato Kameko.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary: ****Human Christina Palmetto is now legally ward of the Mighty Ducks. Very quickly, both sides find that living with aliens is not easy, and Wildwing finds himself taking on a second younger sibling who's rather a lot to handle.**

**Note:** This is one of several short pieces I've had on my hard drive for several years now, and I've recently been looking them back over. I've had many requests over the years for more information about my character, Christina "Emerald" L'Orange, and these little stories cover some of her backstory not yet revealed. So I figured what the hell, I'll publish them and see what happens. Enjoy! :)

* * *

"Christina! Practice is starting! Let's go!" Wildwing shouted back into the locker room before skating to his goal. It was nearly ten minutes before the human appeared on the ice, not saying a word to anyone. Mallory shot her a dirty look.

"It's about time."

"Leave me alone, Mallory." There was no hint of anger or nastiness in the comment; it was mostly just tired.

"Ex-_cuse_ me?"

"_Leave_ it, Mallory," Wildwing sighed. "We've talked about his, Chris. If you're going to live here, you're going to train with us, and if you train with us, you're _going_ to follow the rules. When you're late, there are consequences. You'll do laps after practice."

"Whatever," she muttered, using her stick to separate out a handful of pucks from the pile dumped on the ice. Wildwing narrowed his eyes.

"You just doubled your laps from thirty to sixty." He was going to work this attitude out of her one way or another.

She sighed and set up a shot, this time responding more appropriately. "Yes, sir."

Shaking his head, Wildwing rearranged himself in front of his goal and called for practice to resume. He was forced to turn his attention away from her then, but he was certain he'd seen her wince as she'd drawn back her stick to shoot.

A half an hour later, he was reminded of his concern. Tanya had just checked Christina into the boards, and where normally the girl would have recovered about as quickly as anyone, this time, she didn't. For several long seconds she leaned heavily on the boards, eyes squeezed shut, gasping in apparent pain. Then she started skating again, slowly at first, almost unsteadily, as if trying but not entirely succeeding in shaking off whatever had stopped her.

"Chris? You all right?"

She nodded, but she wasn't looking at him. Tanya skated toward her, an almost motherly look of concern on her face.

"I didn't think I hit you _that_ hard... Are you _sure_you're okay?"

"I'm _fine_, all right? Lay off!"

Tanya looked stricken, and Wildwing resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "All right, Chris, all right. Let's try it again." He gave a few extra instructions, and they started over. Again Christina failed to dodge Tanya's check, and again, the girl appeared as if she was in intense pain. This time, in fact, when Tanya let her go, she fell to her knees, doubled over and gasping.

Wildwing was away from his goal instantly, calling for the others to stop the play. When he reached Christina, she was struggling to get her feet back under her, swatting away Tanya's attempts to help her, and was again leaning heavily on the boards. He grabbed her elbow to support her; she tried to swat him away, too, but he wouldn't let her.

"Chris, what is it? What's wrong?"

She shook her head, but the grimace on her face and the tears rolling down her cheeks betrayed her. She tried to pull her arm away from him, and all at once he remembered how abruptly she'd given up the argument after her temper tantrum the night before. He let go, but only long enough to pull his own gloves off. Then he grabbed her forearm and pulled it toward him.

"It's your hand, isn't it?"

"I'm... fine..." She pulled on her arm again, but this time he held strong, his voice rising a full two octaves in disbelief that she was _still_ trying to deny that anything was wrong.

"You are _not_ 'fine', you just _collapsed__!_ It _is_ your hand, isn't it? Let me _see_."

"What's wrong, Wing?" Duke had appeared next to him. In fact, the entire team had crowded around them in concern.

"_Nothing_," Christina growled, trying again to pull away. Wildwing frowned at her, pulling back.

"She's hurt. Let me see your hand, Chris." He started to pull her glove off; she curled her hand to stop him, squeezing her eyes shut again in such obvious pain that her denials were now absolutely absurd.

"Lemme go."

"No."

"Let _go_!"

"Not until you let me see your hand!"

"_No__!_" She tried harder than ever to pull free, this time with her whole body. Growling in frustration and holding her injured hand out of harm's way, he grabbed her by the collar and shoved her hard against the boards, using his greater weight to his advantage to hold her there and free both his hands. The team watched wide-eyed as Wildwing pulled her sleeve up, ripped off the padding from her forearm, then wrapped his hand around her arm just below her glove and _squeezed_.

"Stop it!" Christina yelped.

"Let me see you hand." he returned through gritted teeth.

"_No__!_ _Damn_ it, I _hate_ you! Just let me _go__!_" She struggled, but to no avail—Wildwing was simply too strong.

"Uh, b-bro..."

"Wildwing, I think maybe—"

"Just _wait_," he responded to his teammates' concerned attempts to calm him down. He didn't move but to counter her attempts to escape, his grip on her arm unrelenting as he watched Christina's expression through narrowed eyes.

"_You__'__re__hurting__me__!_" she finally wailed, flailing for whatever buttons she could press that would make him let go. But he wouldn't. He couldn't. For her sake, he _had_ to do this.

"Then stop _fighting__me__!_" he growled back, tightening his grip.

She was caving, he knew she was. He could see it in her eyes, anger melting away, leaving only pain and exhaustion. But still, she refused to let him remove her glove, tightening her hand as much as she could manage, squeezing her eyes shut and taking deep, desperate breathes in an attempt to stave off the pain her resistance was causing. He tightened his hand one last time, trying not to think of the bruises he _had_ to be inflicting. Because if he was right, the damage to her hand was much, much worse than he'd assumed last night.

All at once and against her will, Christina's hand went limp, and she slumped, defeated. Wildwing gently, oh-so-carefully tugged her glove off with his other hand, and only when he had that done did he finally dare to release his vice-grip on her arm. Her forearm was already bearing a faint bruise that was sure to darken in the next few hours, but it paled in comparison to what she'd been hiding.

There were gasps of horror all around. Wildwing let Christina off the boards, turning his full attention to her at last revealed injury. He felt faintly sick at the sight of it—_how_ could he have been so _stupid_? A person, human _or_ duck, couldn't just slam a bare fist into solid metal and glass without injury, not as hard as she'd struck. But he'd been distracted and he'd let that distraction lead to this.

"_Mother__o__' __Ducks_..." Duke muttered, barely above a whisper. "What the hell happened t'your hand, kid?"

She didn't look at him. She wasn't, in fact, looking at anyone, but instead had closed her eyes, tears of pain flowing freely down her face as Wildwing carefully turned her hand palm-down, to get a better look at the damage. She'd bandaged it herself, but the damage to the skin, the split knuckles and cuts from the shattered display and electrical burns from the mangled electronics which Wildwing found as he began unwrapping it were nothing.

_Stupid_, he accused of himself. _Unbelievably__blind__._

"Chris, why didn't you _tell_ me?" She didn't answer. She still wouldn't open her eyes, gasping and stifling whimpers as he gingerly inspected her thoroughly blackened hand. Tears flowed freely down her face behind the visor of her mask, and she'd paled significantly since he'd gotten her glove off. Without even activating the Mask, he could tell her small, swollen hand was broken. Shattered. He shook his head, too mortified by what he was seeing to be angry anymore.

Mallory was gaping at the wound, wide-eyed. "...Is _that_ how she busted up Drake One?"

Wildwing nodded numbly, to further murmurs of disbelief.

"Why didn't you _tell_me it was this bad, Chris?" he repeated. She stared at her hand and muttered something too quietly for him to make out. "What?" he asked gently as he moved to stand at Christina's right side, putting his left arm around her shoulders to support her and cradling her right hand carefully in his right.

"I didn't want t'get yelled at, all right?" she repeated, averting her eyes. He blinked at her.

"What... Chris, why would I yell at you? Especially if you're _hurt_?" She just shook her head, either unable or unwilling to answer. He continued to stare. That she could do this, do this _to__herself_, and not scream or cry or seemingly react to the pain in any way, at least not immediately, was incomprehensible. That she'd deliberately hid the injury, _knowing_ it was serious, _knowing_ it would mean permanent damage if not treated immediately, knowing _they_ could treat it, not just treat it but treat it better than any human doctor on the planet... And still she'd tried to hide it. Fought him desperately when he'd confronted her.

Why? Pride? Simple, blinding pride? Or was it something more insidious? His mind backtracked another minute or so through their conversation the night before. An image he'd deliberately filed away froze before his mind's eyes, and the sick feeling doubled.

_She__'__d__flinched__._ Just barely, but she _had_ flinched.

_My__God_, he thought. _She__'__s__afraid__of__me__._

Well, if that was the case, he'd just have to prove she could trust him.

"C'mon, let's get your gear off and get you down to the infirmary. Tanya, Mallory," he added with a glance, but both had already fallen into step on the human's other side. "The rest of you can go; practice is over."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **The Mighty Ducks and all related characters are © Walt Disney Entertainment and are used without permission for entertainment purposes only. 'Wildwing vs. Wildchild' is © 2012 to Hamato Kameko. The character, Christina Palmetto/Emerald L'Orange, is © 2001-2012 Hamato Kameko.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary: ****Human Christina Palmetto is now legally ward of the Mighty Ducks. Very quickly, both sides find that living with aliens is not easy, and Wildwing finds himself taking on a second younger sibling who's rather a lot to handle.**

**Note:** This is one of several short pieces I've had on my hard drive for several years now, and I've recently been looking them back over. I've had many requests over the years for more information about my character, Christina "Emerald" L'Orange, and these little stories cover some of her backstory not yet revealed. So I figured what the hell, I'll publish them and see what happens. Enjoy! :)

* * *

Aside from the occasional gasp or whimper of pain, Christina was silent as they took her into the locker room, as Wildwing politely excused himself to change in his own room and Tanya and Mallory helped her out of her uniform and into clean clothes—a shower would have to wait. She didn't speak, either, when Tanya examined her hand and scanned it to determine exactly where and what was broken—for it very clearly _was_ broken, and in more than one place. With a sigh of dread, Tanya at last returned to the bed Christina was sitting on.

"Are the painkillers helping yet?"

Christina shook her head, tears dripping from her down-turned face to the floor. Tanya sighed again, removing her glasses for a moment to rub her eyes. "I wish I could give you more, but I just can't do it safely. Not this soon."

Christina nodded, biting down a sudden sob. Tanya continued.

"But I _have_ to adjust the bones. If I don't, your hand won't heal properly, and if I wait, they'll start to heal the way they are, and I'll have to re-break them."

Christina nodded again, still not looking up.

"You, uh, you may want to l-lie down..."

When she didn't move, Wildwing gently pushed her down; she didn't resist in the slightest, though she didn't open her eyes to acknowledge either of them, either. Wildwing reached over and moved a strand of dark brown hair out of her eyes; Christina took in a sharp breath, turning her head toward him and away from the pain as Tanya picked up her hand.

"I wish there was another way to do this," Tanya apologized.

With the first ghastly pop, any and all remaining attempts on Christina's part to be tough vanished, and she burst into fresh tears, no longer able to contain her sobs.

"Okay... It's okay..." It had been a long time since Wildwing had broken any bones, but he remembered the pain all too well. He reached over and took her uninjured hand in his, interlocking their fingers. "Squeeze my hand, Chris. It'll help."

Tanya adjusted another bone, and Christina clutched Wildwing's hand with all her strength, her sobs making it difficult to breathe and no doubt making the whole experience that much worse. He almost wished she'd pass out, just to spare her the pain.

"_It__hurts_..." she sobbed, in too much pain to care or even really notice if she looked weak or not. Wildwing stroked her hair with his free hand—it was a gesture he was sure that at any other time she would have pulled away from, but that now she didn't seem to mind. He spoke to her softly, trying to keep her calm as a third pop shot pain clear up her arm.

"I know, kiddo... I know it hurts..."

"It's almost over, Chris, this is the last one," Tanya added, before a forth pop made Christina gasp again, writhing and pressing the heels of her boots into the bed, stopping just short of kicking her legs in a barely sensible attempt to relieve the pain. She cried harder than ever.

"Shhh... It's okay, Chris... The hard part's over... Shhh..."

"_It__hurts__so__much__..._"

"Shhh... I know... I know..." Wildwing continued to hold her hand and stroke her hair as Tanya put a cold pack against Christina's shattered hand, to reduce the new swelling and hopefully numb some of the pain. She'd already put ice on the bruise Wildwing's hand had left—and he felt terrible about it. Still, what other options had he had? Christina was still crying hard, but was calming down now that the assault on her already agonized hand had ended.

"She jammed her elbow, too, but fortunately the damage isn't too bad. It'll, y'know, clear up on it's own in a couple of days."

Wildwing looked up at Tanya, who had crossed the room to a workstation and was busying herself with something he couldn't see. "But what about her hand? Humans use those plaster... what do they call them..."

"Casts," Chris supplied exhaustedly, her voice rough. She didn't even open her eyes.

Tanya snorted derisively. "It'll be a cold day on Sauria before any patient of _mine_ is subjected to one of those... those _things_."

At this Christina opened her eyes. "What else is there?" she wondered aloud.

"A proper brace," Tanya stated simply, holding up something, but she had put it down again before Chris could really process what she was seeing. "I'll need a few more minutes to finish modifying it, thanks to that, y'know, fifth finger of yours—" Chris raised an eyebrow at Wildwing, who smiled and waggled his four-fingered hand in front of her face. She smiled despite herself as Tanya continued. "—but when I'm done, your hand will heal perfectly. In a few days, after the bones have started fusing, I'll adjust it so you'll have a little more movement in your fingers. That way your muscles won't get a chance to atrophy, the way they would if your arm was encased in one of those dumb plaster monstro—monst—_things_. And besides, y'know, _this_ thing can get wet without falling apart."

Wildwing had thought Christina was falling asleep, judging by how low her eyelids had drooped and how much her grip on his hand had weakened, but she spoke up again. "But... won't the bones get all outta whack if I'm movin' my fingers? I mean, I thought that was the whole point—t'hold it all immobile 'till it heals."

"That's the point of _casts_," Tanya explained. "We don't use them on Puckworld. Human technology just hasn't managed to come up with a way to keep the bones in place while still allowing more than a few twitches." She shrugged. On the brink of sleep but fighting it, Christina managed to scowl, but before she could comment, Wildwing cut in.

"It's not meant to be an insult, Chris. It's just that your planet has been in the technology age for only about a hundred years, and Puckworld has been in it for _centuries_. It took us time to develop our technology, just as it's taking your people time to develop similar technology. There are planets out there that are more advanced than _we_ are, and there are planets that are much less advanced than you are." He shrugged. "It's just the way the universes are."

She stared at him a moment, processing this, then nodded, apparently satisfied by this explanation. "Guess that makes sense. I never thought I'd get used t'hearin' the word 'universe' with an 's' on the end, though."

Wildwing grinned. "Neither did I. So..." His expression grew serious again. "Is this going to be the last time you attack our equipment?"

Disarmed by the pain and resulting fatigue, shame appeared very clearly on her face. She nodded again, closing her eyes. "Yes, sir. I-I... I'll help fix it."

"I already did," Tanya commented, joining them at the bed. She smiled down at the human, very gently taking her hand again. "But you can owe me." Christina struggled to open her eyes to watch what Tanya was doing, and Wildwing shared a smile with the other duck.

"I think the painkillers are kicking in. You feeling any better, Chris?"

"A little. Tired," she added needlessly.

"Bet you didn't sleep real well last night," he guessed. Tanya was fastening the brace to her hand; clearly the pain was numbing, because she didn't seem to be much fazed.

"No. Didn't sleep at all," she murmured, her eyes sliding shut again. Wildwing had a feeling she wouldn't be able to open them even if she tried.

"Well," Tanya's hands kept busy as she talked, tightening here, readjusting there, "you'll have plenty of time to sleep when I'm done."

Christina didn't respond this time, and Wildwing smiled. Extracting his hand from hers, he retrieved a blanket and pulled it over her.

"I think she's getting a head start."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **The Mighty Ducks and all related characters are © Walt Disney Entertainment and are used without permission for entertainment purposes only. 'Wildwing vs. Wildchild' is © 2012 to Hamato Kameko. The character, Christina Palmetto/Emerald L'Orange, is © 2001-2012 Hamato Kameko.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary: ****Human Christina Palmetto is now legally ward of the Mighty Ducks. Very quickly, both sides find that living with aliens is not easy, and Wildwing finds himself taking on a second younger sibling who's rather a lot to handle.**

**Note:** This is one of several short pieces I've had on my hard drive for several years now, and I've recently been looking them back over. I've had many requests over the years for more information about my character, Christina "Emerald" L'Orange, and these little stories cover some of her backstory not yet revealed. So I figured what the hell, I'll publish them and see what happens. Enjoy! :)

* * *

Wildwing slid onto one of the benches that flanked the mess hall table and picked a sandwich from the plate someone had prepared.

"Who made lunch?"

"That would be me," Duke grinned. "You're welcome. So how's the kid?"

Wildwing chewed thoughtfully for a moment before swallowing and responding. "Oh, she'll be fine. Tanya put a brace on her and says it'll heal completely. She's sleeping off the painkillers right now. I'll wake her up around dinner if she doesn't wake up on her own."

Mallory rolled her eyes and shot Nosedive a look. "And you thought _I_ had a bad temper."

Nosedive snorted, smirking. "At least _she_ only beats up on machines and not _living__people_."

Mallory threw a cheese puff at him. Nosedive threw the tab from his soda can back at her and then ducked behind his brother, who was promptly nailed in the face with half a ham sandwich.

"Guys, _come_ on!" Wildwing brushed a piece of tomato off his beak and reached for a napkin; Duke, Nosedive and Mallory sniggered.

"Sorry, Wildwing. I was aiming for your brother."

"I _know_ who you were aiming for. What I want to know is how you missed when he's less than four feet away from you." He wiped his face clean and glanced over his shoulder. "Nosedive, let go of my shirt, you're stretching it out." Nosedive was still crouched behind his brother, clinging to his t-shirt for balance.

"Aw, you're no fun." He brushed Wildwing's shirt straight as he stood up—quite a bit more than necessary, actually. "There." Brush, brush. "See?" Brush. "Good as new." Brush, brush, brush.

Wildwing swatted at him. "Would you quit and just eat your lunch?"

Duke grinned across the table at them. "Ah, brotherly love. It's a beautiful thing, ain't it, Mal?"

They ate in silence for a few moments before Mallory spoke up. "So, Wildwing... What are you gonna do?"

He looked up. "About what?"

"About that kid."

Wildwing raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, what am I gonna do about her? I dealt with it. She's fine."

Nosedive piped up. "Look, as much as I like having another teenager around, Wing, Mallory's kinda got a point. I mean, she's a little..."

"She needs more help than we can provide," Mallory finished for him. "This destructiveness isn't healthy. And the kleptomania is a magnet for trouble, and Klegghorn's breathing down our feathers enough as it is."

"I've _known_ people who can't control their stealin', Mallory," Duke commented quietly. "It ain't easy t'beat, an' it's dangerous. It gets bad enough, they start getting' sloppy. Like when she tried to steal from _me_. She's been lucky so far, but she'll get caught eventually. An' then what? She can spend the next twenty years in prison with murderers and rapists? She don't deserve that. Not for somethin' she can't even control."

Mallory was growing frustrated. "We have bigger priorities than always keeping an eye on a kid who doesn't want our help anyway!"

"She wants our help," Wildwing stated immediately, to the startled expressions of his teammates. Mallory snorted.

"Coulda fooled me. Are you telling me that 'I hate you' is her way of saying _thanks_?"

Wildwing sighed. "Christina doesn't _hate_ any of us. She's just not used to having boundaries and she's not used to people looking out for her. She doesn't know how to _trust_. She's been on her own too long. We're just going to have to give it time—we're having an effect already. She's trying. She just needs time. Nobody can change overnight." He smiled. "Think what you want about my mental health, Mallory—" she had the grace to look embarrassed "—but I'm not ready to give up on her. She's staying. End of song."


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **The Mighty Ducks and all related characters are © Walt Disney Entertainment and are used without permission for entertainment purposes only. 'Wildwing vs. Wildchild' is © 2012 to Hamato Kameko. The character, Christina Palmetto/Emerald L'Orange, is © 2001-2012 Hamato Kameko.

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary: ****Human Christina Palmetto is now legally ward of the Mighty Ducks. Very quickly, both sides find that living with aliens is not easy, and Wildwing finds himself taking on a second younger sibling who's rather a lot to handle.**

**Note:** This is one of several short pieces I've had on my hard drive for several years now, and I've recently been looking them back over. I've had many requests over the years for more information about my character, Christina "Emerald" L'Orange, and these little stories cover some of her backstory not yet revealed. So I figured what the hell, I'll publish them and see what happens. Enjoy! :)

* * *

"Chris… Hey. It's almost time for dinner, kiddo. Wake up."

Wildwing gently shook her shoulder, and finally she opened her eyes.

"Huh? Oh. Oh, okay..." She pushed herself up with her uninjured hand, then rubbed her eyes. "Okay, I'm up." She yawned, and Wildwing grinned.

"Up, but not quite awake yet. No need to rush; you've got plenty of time. We're getting pizza. Hey! A smile!"

Her tired smile widened at his tease. "Sounds good." She slid down from the bed, wobbling a bit before turning her attention to her battered hand. Apparently Tanya hadn't deemed the cuts severe enough for rebandaging, because all that was on her hand now was the modified brace. It looked a bit like a combination of fishnetting and dowels, only it was made of some sort of light-weight metal the human couldn't identify. Her bruised hand was clearly visible beneath it, but at least now it would _heal_. She carefully turned it one way and then the other, eyeing it critically. Finally, she shrugged.

"Not like _I_ know much about medicine, anyway," She muttered, more to herself than anything. Then she looked up at him. "Did Tanya say it was okay to shower with this thing on my arm?"

He nodded. "I'm not saying it won't hurt, especially with those cuts, but yeah, you can get it wet. You can even swim with it on."

She examined it a bit more closely, flinching slightly as the movement caused her pain. "Wow. Definitely beats a cast." She was silent for a long moment, staring at the brace. Finally she spoke. "I... I really am sorry. I-I mean, about the way I acted, and... an' bustin' Drake One."

He nodded again. "Apology accepted. But you have _got_ to work on that attitude."

She nodded, still not meeting his eyes. "Sorry about bein' late for practice," she mumbled. She seemed to be forcing herself to say the words, but at least she _was_ saying them. "I-I'll stay after tomorrow."

He shook his head. "Only if you're late tomorrow."

At this she finally looked up. "But—You said..."

Wildwing smiled. "I think you've been punished enough for today. So go wash up, and we'll see you in the rec room in, oh, about half an hour or so, okay?"

She smiled again. "Okay." Wildwing started out of the room, and Christina followed. "'Ey, Wildwing?" He stopped in the doorway, turning around to face her.

"Yeah?"

"I, uh... I don't hate you."

He smiled, suddenly feeling better than he had all day.

"I know you don't, Chris. But it's nice to hear it anyway."


End file.
